Contender for
the Gold
by Harriett
Fjaagesund
"There is
a fly in my mashed potatoes!" Fritz shouted.
The waiter
hurried over. "My apologies! Oh, that's not
just any common fly, sir, that's Mr. Bigguns. He's
in training for the 2010 Canada Winter Olympics."
"Is this
an example of a joke you people like to play on
innocent tourists?"
"Certainly
not! We take our sports very seriously. Mr.
Bigguns is a superb athlete, a real contender for
the gold medal."
"Gold
medal in what?" Fritz asked.
"Downhill
skiing."
"And
those little orange things on his feets, what are
those? They look like little carrot sticks."
"Skis."
"I am
finding this very hard to believe. It is too
fantastic to think that a little fly would be
able to ski."
"Mr.
Bigguns actually started his athletic career as a
jockey. He rode many champions to victory
all over the world, but he eventually had to give
it up."
"Yah, I
understand. The little fellow kept falling
off the horse."
"Not at
all, sir. Mr. Bigguns is an expert horseman. He
kept getting distracted by all the horse manure
flying around. Several of his mounts were
disqualified for crossing the finish line without
a rider in the saddle."
Fritz eyed the
fly swooshing across his plate. "So why is
he skiing in my mashed potatoes? You have
many tall mountains."
"The
plane Mr. Bigguns flew in on lost his luggage,
which included his specially designed thermal
underwear and ski suit. So he's been forced to
practice in a warm environment until his luggage
is located. Can I get you something else, sir? It's
on the house. Perhaps a steaming bowl of chili?
Today's cream of mushroom soup is very good. We
also have a wide selection of sandwiches and
burgers."
"No, I
think I will try the dessert. A big bowl of
lemon Jell-O would be very nice."
"Excellent
choice, sir, but I'll have to check with the
kitchen and see if the Northern Bedbugs have
finished their skating lesson. They're
involved in a revenge match with the 747
Mosquitoes. Both sides are out for blood."
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